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When it happens, the moment itself is rather insignificant.
Sabrina and the Weird Sisters, loitering about after choir practice, singing random passages from the songbook for lack of something more interesting to do. Prudence has the most well rounded voice, but Agatha can carry a note for longer than all of them, and Dorcas can match a harmony as easily as snapping her fingers.
Though she feels her singing is nothing particularly special, despite holding her own within the group, the three prod Sabrina into serenading them. Something different and not from the book. A ridiculous mortal song they've never heard. She takes the challenge readily, rising from the floor, and after a moment fumbles right into Walkin' After Midnight by Patsy Cline. Because it's the first song she thinks of, remembering it was Susie's favorite back in fifth grade after finding a record in the attic that once belonged to her mother, and somehow still knows all the words.
It feels rather appropriate, lyrics romanticizing walking through the forest at the witching hour, and the three of them are greatly delighted by mortals making songs about such things. They all clap when Sabrina finishes, out of amusement more than anything, and she curtsies with a bemused grin.
Prudence rises from her perch on the floor, matching grin on her face, and eyes playful.
“You remain full of surprises,” she states, reaching out with her fingers to toy along the lace of Sabrina's collar.
“One hates to be predictable,” Sabrina gives back, gaze darting down to Prudence's nails now teasing along her shoulders.
“I suppose that's true.”
Prudence's hands grip along the top of Sabrina's arms, causing her head to tilt back up, ready to ask a question that never pushes past her lips. Because Prudence is suddenly covering them with her own, as Sabrina's eyes fall closed, a bewildered sound escaping her throat. Prudence surprises her again, not pulling back, and Sabrina surprises herself by not wanting her to.
She does eventually, eyes fluttering back open, and feeling a bit awestruck over what just happened.
“Why did you do that?” she asks softly.
“Because,” Prudence begins, gently wiping away a smear of Sabrina's lipstick. “You're a lovely girl, with a lovely voice, and I wanted to.”
Sabrina has no argument for that line of logic.
“Oh,” she remarks.
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” Sabrina is quick to say. “I just, well, that was my first.”
“Kiss?”
“With a... A...”
“Oh my,” Prudence begins, fingers still teasing across Sabrina's mouth. “You've never kissed a girl before?”
Sabrina shakes her head.
Prudence casts a quick glance at her sisters, who both smirk, but do not offer commentary.
“Have you never wanted to?”
Sabrina immediately thinks of Rosalind's fourteenth birthday party, and the game of spin the bottle that no one wanted to play, yet everyone seemed to participate. How on her turn, it ended up on the birthday girl herself, and the quick dismissal that it not count because they were both girls. Sabrina would have done it. Almost did out of sheer spite with everyone's close minded reaction. But was given another spin to have it end up on Harvey Kinkle.
“Maybe,” she answers vaguely.
Prudence boops her nose.
“Full of surprises.”
/\
It's almost time for lights out, when Sabrina crouches before the trunk perched in front of her bed, ready to fetch her pajamas and head into the changing room. On first glance they don't appear to be tucked in the usual spot, as she shifts other articles of clothing around, the folded corner of a garment that doesn't appear to be hers catching her eye.
Pulling it from the trunk she holds it out before her, discovering one appears to be two, a short cut nightgown with accompanying robe both in matching white. It takes but a moment to realize the Sisters left it for her, though she doesn't understand why they would get rid of her usual pair, until the realization that choosing to forgo the gift wasn't an option.
Sighing, she makes way to the changing room, which is surprisingly empty despite it being so close to bedtime. Of course both items fit her perfectly, as she sways to and fro, admiring her reflection in the mirror. Agatha and Dorcas enter then, causing her to still instantly, a hand moving to tuck a silver lock of hair behind her ear.
“Ah,” Agatha begins, stepping closer and letting her fingers dance along the back of Sabrina's shoulders. “So you found them.”
“Yes,” Dorcas agrees, mimicking the gesture her sister just completed from the opposite side. “Much more befitting a Witch of your stature.”
“My stature?”
They hum in perfect sync.
“Any Witch who can conjure hellfire,” Agatha begins.
“Should dress herself in sleepwear completely absent of baby ducks,” Dorcas finishes.
Sabrina doesn't look to either of them, catching their eyes in the mirror instead, as they press closer to each of her sides.
“I liked those pajamas,” she states flatly.
Both girls snicker.
“Please,” they detract in unison.
For a moment no one moves, all focused on their reflection.
“Tell us Sabrina,” Agatha starts.
“Do you think about her when she's not around?” Dorcas finishes.
Her meaning Prudence. Who is currently not around. Spending some time at Father Blackwood's estate. The High Priest actually making an effort to bring his abandoned daughter further into his life.
“Because she does,” Agatha insists. “Think about you.”
“Which means we,” Dorcas adds. “Do too.”
The thought of Prudence daydreaming about her causes Sabrina's pulse to jump. Something the Sisters notice and grin upon.
“Yes,” she replies honestly. “I think about her all the time.”
“Good things?” Agatha asks.
“Bad things?” Dorcas wonders.
No girl has taken her eyes away from the mirror.
“All kinds of things.” Sabrina gives. “But I won't get into them tonight.”
She brings an opposite hand to caress each side of their faces.
“It's getting late,” she informs. “We should really head to bed.”
Neither Agatha, nor Dorcas, offer a rebuttal. Instead they press matching kisses to Sabrina's cheeks, and exit the room without a word, leaving her alone with her reflection.
/\
“Are you dating the Weird Sisters?” Nick asks, as he takes a seat opposite of Sabrina in the library.
“Strange way to say hello,” she replies, not looking up from her book.
“Good afternoon Sabrina,” he greets properly. “Can you please answer my question?”
Her eyes lift above the page, to the expectant look on his face, and she sighs before closing the book and setting it down into her lap.
“Not that it's any of your business,” she states evenly. “But it isn't something we've really talked about.”
Nick's brow creases together.
“That's not actually an answer.”
Sabrina shrugs.
“I don't have a better one. Besides, it's not all three, Prudence and I-”
“If you date one,” Nick interrupts. “You date them all.”
Sabrina tilts her head, curious.
“Is that how it happened for you?”
Nick seems to relax a little.
“Before I realized there wasn't another option? Yeah.”
He regards her in all seriousness.
“Three in one. Are you sure you're ready for that?”
Sabrina considers this.
“I don't know,” she answers honestly. “But I guess I'll find out.”
/\
Sabrina wonders if she'll ever tire of the way Prudence kisses. Strong and demanding, as if the price of passage is her very soul, of which she's all too eager to give. They exist in stolen moments, hidden in recessed corners of the Academy, a game played for their own amusement rather than masking it from their peers.
Because everyone knows.
Whenever they walk down the halls like they own the place. That Sabrina Spellman finally embraced her witch half, is all in with the Weird Sisters, and on the arm of Prudence Night. There's no definition to what they are now, the terrible trio morphed into a quartet, and a growing power none of the students can hope to match.
Sabrina does wonder, just what they are. What they aim to be. She contemplates this, arms wrapped around Prudence's waist, head resting gently across her midsection. The girls are laid out on Sabrina's own bed in the Spellman house, while Agatha and Dorcas frolic in the basement below with Ambrose.
“What is this to you?” she asks cautiously, the movie she'd somehow convinced her to watch playing on the old TV in the corner.
“A terrible piece of cinema,” Prudence replies, hand gesturing at the television. “I mean really, what self respecting witch is going to devour children for extended youth, when the Dark Lord already provides such a luxury?”
Sabrina laughs, taking small pleasure in the way it reverberates along Prudence's stomach, and causes her to shift because apparently it tickles.
“No, I mean you. I mean, me. Us.”
Prudence doesn't answer right away, eyes still focused and disgusted at Hollywood's version of witchcraft, but her hands lift to smooth across Sabrina's hair.
“Cherries in brandy,” she finally replies.
Sabrina doesn't understand, and says as much.
“It's Father Blackwoo-” she begins, before cutting herself off. “It's Father's favorite decadence. A stiff drink and something sweet.”
Sabrina twists so that their eyes meet.
“That is what you are to me.”
The flush enters her cheeks swiftly.
“Okay,” Sabrina allows. “But are we dating? I mean if someone asks-”
“Who's going to ask?”
“I don't know, people?”
Prudence rolls her eyes.
“Anyone worth knowing, already knows, that you are with me. With us.”
Prudence slides her fingers through Sabrina's silver strands.
“Yeah, but-”
“Ugh,” Prudence laments, rolling her eyes once more. “Your mortal is showing. Always needing a nice, shiny label on something, as if definition makes it yours.”
“Aren't I?” she asks softly. “Yours?”
Prudence regards her thoughtfully.
“I don't wish to hold some kind of possession over you,” she states. “That is not something that interests me. You're one of us now, Sabrina. Don't ever doubt that. But if you think that I'm going to scribble our initials between the spaces on my parchment paper, I'm afraid it's just not my style.”
Her hands curls to cup Sabrina's cheek.
“And you know being with me, means us, don't you?”
Sabrina nods. She's known ever since the conversation with Nick in the library, but was never quite sure how to broach the subject. Never knew which questions to ask. Never knew how to think about it in a practical way at all.
“We won't push,” Prudence assures. “You'll be ready, whenever you choose to be. Until then, it can be just you and me.”
/\
Dorcas takes Sabrina's hand as they walk through the woods, on a trek looking for elder root, with Agatha and Prudence just ahead of them. She doesn't say anything, and neither does Sabrina, instead listening on as the pair in front bicker over which direction to take. Agatha says left, but Prudence insists on right, and Sabrina has no idea where to look the for the herb so she remains mum.
“Don't you have an opinion?” she asks softly.
“What about?”
“Which way we should go?”
Dorcas casts a side glance at her.
“It really doesn't matter,” she gives. “These woods are flush with elder root. We could turn around and head back to the Academy and still stumble upon a batch.”
Sabrina looks to her confused.
“Why don't you tell them that?”
Dorcas grins.
“Isn't it more fun to watch them peck at each other?”
Sabrina snickers into her free hand.
They go right, because of course Prudence gets her way, but neither she nor Agatha even glance back to see if Sabrina and Dorcas are still in tow.
“Can I ask you something?” Sabrina questions, looking down at their entwined fingers.
“You may.”
“Do you even like me?” Sabrina goes on. “I mean, really. It isn't just Prudence's feelings being absorbed into whatever hive mind thing going on between the three of you?”
Dorcas reflects on this a moment.
“That's part of it,” she allows. “But it's not all encompassing. I know you're going to bring up Nick, and I can only say that was a rare occasion where we were all thinking the same thing.”
“Which was?”
“Damn, he's hot.”
Sabrina smirks.
“This?”
She squeezes Sabrina's hand.
“Is because you conjured hellfire. That changed a lot of people's minds about you. Mine included.”
Sabrina's free hand goes straight to her hair.
“It changed a lot of things.”
Dorcas nods.
“I started thinking. What is it about you? What is so special?”
Dorcas stops walking, and gives a little tug so that Sabrina does too, Agatha and Prudence still carrying on. Her hand goes to cover Sabrina's, still fidgeting with the ends of her hair, and suddenly it's very difficult to breathe.
“And then I realized, it's because you are. Special. Prudence sees it. I can see it too.”
Dorcas' bottom lip catches between her teeth.
“May I?” she asks
Sabrina can only nod, not trusting any words that may come, as her eyes flutter closed with the kiss. It's nothing like Prudence, who demands as much as she gives, rather more curious as a bee floating from flower to flower.
“Will you two keep-” Prudence suddenly calls, her own words clipped by the site before her.
Sabrina jumps back is if shocked, an apology poised and ready on her tongue, but after a moment she realizes that Prudence could not be more pleased.
“Well, well,” she teases. “It looks as if we're finally getting somewhere.”
/\
Sabrina stares down into the empty cauldron, notes on how to brew a proper revitalizing elixir in hand, but not having the faintest idea where to begin. Perhaps she should have paid more attention when Hilda tried to teach her such things, but there's no use in regret right now.
“You certainly have my Sisters smitten,” Agatha calls from behind.
Sabrina looks over her shoulder, puzzled by the sight, alone for the first time she's ever bared witness to.
“Does that mean you're not?” she inquires.
Agatha folds her arms, not amused.
“I feel it,” she gives, fingers fluttering next to her temple. “Flitting inside my mind like a spider on its web.”
Sabrina turns all the way round atop her chair.
“But sometimes I fight it. Sometimes I can't stand it.”
Sabrina accepts this information with a nod.
“Sometimes you can't stand me?” she offers with a quirk of her brow.
Agatha scowls.
“Don't do that,” she spits. “Don't be cute when I'm trying to-”
She takes a breath.
“You killed me.”
Sabrina's stomach drops with the guilt.
“I did.”
“For a boy,” Agatha seethes. “A mortal boy.”
“A boy you tried to kill,” Sabrina shoots back. “And another you did.”
She rises from her chair, taking a step toward Agatha, who doesn't move at all.
“I never planned on you staying dead,” she continues. “Even with all my anger I never wanted... I didn't want that for you.”
“Your anger?” Agatha questions.
“What's that saying?” Sabrina counters. “Blood for blood?”
Agatha is aghast with her use of the phrase.
“That is not-”
“Does it matter?” Sabrina asks. “Because the pain is still there, isn't it? Still real?”
Agatha's hands move gingerly to her neck, fingers almost shaking.
“I am sorry,” Sabrina offers, reaching for Agatha's hand, glad that she doesn't pull back. “I didn't want to hurt you, but I was trying to protect the people I love.”
Agatha's eyes narrow at the present tense of her words.
“Loved.”
She brings Agatha's hand to her lips, pressing a kiss ever so softly against the skin, and takes immense satisfaction in the way the girl's eyes widen at the gesture.
“Sacrifice is a harsh lesson. I know that now. I'm sorry, again, that I had to use you to learn it.”
A tear slides down Agatha's cheek.
“I want to hate you,” she whispers through grit teeth. “So much.”
Sabrina again, accepts the information with a nod.
“But you don't?”
Agatha shakes her head.
“I can't.”
With that she takes Sabrina's face into her hands, kisses her so hard teeth gnash behind their lips, then storms out of the room.
/\
It becomes somewhat easier after that. Being together. Always together. Everything together.
The four of them walk through the common room, all hands clasped, and anyone who crosses their path quickly steps out of it. Heads turn. Hushed whispers echo off the walls. Rumors spread that they just may be powerful enough for the Dark Lord to take notice.
Not one concerns themselves with such hearsay.
Sabrina spots Nick sitting on the stairs, and he quickly rises to his feet on their approach.
“Looks like you were ready after all,” he offers in greeting.
“Nicolas darling,” Prudence chides. “Envy is a useless sin, benefiting no one.”
Nick smirks, but offers no comeback, eyes locking with Sabrina.
“You're good then?”
Sabrina looks to Prudence, then back to Nick with a wink.
“I'm a stiff drink and something sweet.”